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Mingyu leans on the counter in front of the mirror and turns his face from side to side, assessing his current state. The split in his lower lip demands priority, but there's not much he can do about it besides poking at it gingerly with a fingertip and wincing at how swollen the area has become. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. Bastards. But at least they didn’t get him anywhere else on his face.
The next order of business is the state of his hair – dishevelled, and not in the sexy way. More like someone had grabbed a fistful of it in a cheap shot, ruining his immaculate parting. He fixes his hair as best he can, smoothing back the loose strands and helping himself to some of the gel he found while rummaging through their target's vanity. It's not ideal, of course, but he washes his hands once he's satisfied and moves on.
From here, he only needs to make minute corrections. Mingyu gently loosens the knot of his tie and settles it back into place at the base of his throat, frowning at the redness already staining his knuckles. He smooths down the creases in his suit and rebuttons his jacket. He adjusts his sleeves until they’re perfectly even again. His mouth twists even more severely when he realises that one of his cufflinks is missing. Those were his favourites, a present from the person he adores the most. Bastards.
Given his current situation, this is about as good as he's going to get. With one last glance over his shoulder at his reflection, he leaves the bathroom. He had to make himself pretty before waiting for his hero, after all.
Mingyu wanders idly around the suite, stepping over the occasional unconscious body as he goes. With the most valuable thing in this room folded into thirds and tucked into his inner pocket, there’s very little left of interest. He inspects the bottle of complementary merlot, thinks about pouring himself a glass, then decides against it.
A faint thump outside of the door has him snapping to attention immediately. About time, he mouths to himself with a smile.
He skitters around the table and drops himself back into the chair he'd been tied to about ten minutes ago. He leans down to pick up the scrap of black fabric that was used as a makeshift blindfold, draping it over his eyes once more and securing it at the back of his head. Then, he's slouching back in the chair and crossing his wrists at the small of his back, a slow exhale of anticipation issuing from his mouth.
A click rings out, loud as a gunshot in the silent room. Then, footsteps, steadily paced. Still cautious. Delicate fingers grasp his chin and tilt his head up. The corners of his mouth begin to curve upwards into a grin. He would know the touch of that hand anywhere.
The pad of a thumb presses gently against the cut on Mingyu’s lip, smearing the blood that wells up. He lets his tongue flicker out to lick it clean. The taste of iron blooms in his mouth, and the hand is gone, only to be replaced by the light pressure of lips on his. That, too, is gone before he can lean up and chase after the sensation.
Mingyu huffs out a sigh as the footsteps begin to move away from him. In his head, he traces their path around the room as he listens to each one. They stop four times in total before circling around to the first spot, and a new sound drifts into his ears. A quiet grunt of exertion, then the hiss of something heavy being dragged across the expensive carpet.
Three more times. A door is shut and locked. Keys jingle merrily as they are tossed somewhere across the room. And then, finally, the footsteps come back to Mingyu.
“How’d you know where to find me?” he asks conversationally, even though he knows that his partner is second to none when it comes to making people spill their secrets. This is their idea of small talk.
Silence answers him. The footsteps begin to circle him where he’s still sitting obediently in the chair.
“C’mon. You’re not mad at me, are you?”
Mingyu leans back so that his face is tipped towards the ceiling, the line of his neck stretched taut and his throat exposed. Fingertips ghost across his cheek, and he leans into the touch before the hand is pushing his head up until he’s sitting properly again.
“How many times have I told you…” Wonwoo begins in a low voice as he comes to a stop in front of Mingyu. Mingyu doesn’t need to see him to know that he has his hands on his hips right now. “You have two eyes, two ears and a brain, all of which are working perfectly fine. So why do you insist on placing all your bets on your gut feeling? Hmm?”
“Hasn’t failed me yet,” Mingyu shrugs back. “I got what we came here for.”
Wonwoo’s exasperated sigh, tinted at the edges with frustration, says more than words can convey. So too does the way that he cups Mingyu’s face in both of his hands and kisses him deeply, just shy of being desperate. Mingyu melts in his seat, but he keeps his hands behind his back. He knows that it’s what Wonwoo wants him to do. They might be in the clear now, but he’s landed himself in a different kind of trouble, it seems.
When they part, he murmurs, “Were you really that worried about me? I can take care of myself.”
He knows the answer, of course. He just wants to hear how Wonwoo will phrase it this time.
“I’ve never killed anybody before,” Wonwoo says lightly. “But on my way here, I kept thinking about what I would do if anyone laid a hand on you.”
“Ah, you’re so sexy when you’re mad.”
“Kim Mingyu.”
“Yes, baby?”
“I’m mad at you.”
Mingyu pouts, “Well, we can’t have that, can we? Good thing I was thinking about how to make it up to you while I was waiting for you to come rescue me.”
With that, he inches forward in his seat until he can slide off the chair and onto his knees in front of Wonwoo. He sits back on his heels, tips his head up, and licks at the corner of his mouth. His tongue runs over the tip of his canine tooth.
A hitched breath. “You’re unbelievable, Mingyu.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
Wonwoo cards his hand through Mingyu’s carefully re-styled hair, making a mess of his meticulous work. Mingyu lets his eyes fall shut behind the blindfold as he enjoys the feeling of being petted until Wonwoo retracts his hand. The clink of a belt buckle has him perking up instantly, and he feels the end of the leather whisper across the top of his cheek. It makes his mouth water, makes him shudder out an exhale.
His thoughts are slowly clouding over with desire and need, and suddenly, he couldn’t care less about the vicious chewing out that Seungcheol is sure to give them when they come back. Wonwoo will insist that it’s all Mingyu’s fault, but they both know that he’s just as bad, wants this just as bad.
Mingyu pitches forward until his face is pressed against Wonwoo’s thigh, then uses his cheek to feel his way over to where he’s supposed to be. Courteously, Wonwoo has already undone his button, so all Mingyu needs to do is find the zipper and hold it between his teeth as he drags it down. Immediately, he starts mouthing hotly at Wonwoo’s half-hard cock through his underwear, earning himself a slight hiss from above.
“M’sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “You know I don’t mean to make you worry.”
“Nothing could make me stop worrying, Mingyu-yah. Not even if we changed our names and moved out of the country and- I don’t know, started living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’re so sweet. But if you can still talk this much, I must not be doing my job properly.”
Mingyu’s good, he knows it, but there are still limits to how much he can do without the use of his hands. His ears pick up on a sigh, and then Wonwoo is nudging him away slightly. He opens his mouth, his tongue sticking out a little, and waits.
He wants to swear as soon as Wonwoo feeds him the head of his cock, a plea and a curse and an exaltation all at once. Slowly, slowly, Mingyu takes him all the way to the base, breathing steadily through his nose as he does so. He’d do anything to get a look at Wonwoo’s expression right now, but he supposes that this is how he’s being reprimanded.
No matter. All he has to do is search through his mind for the vision that he has etched permanently into his memory. Wonwoo lost in bliss, his fox eyes half-lidded and his teeth digging into his reddened lower lip. Mingyu can picture it perfectly if he tries hard enough. The soft noise that Wonwoo makes as he grows harder in Mingyu’s mouth certainly encourages his imagination.
There’s no rush, judging by the way that Wonwoo’s blunt nails scratch lightly against Mingyu’s scalp as a string of low praises begins to flow from his mouth. Mingyu takes his sweet time sucking him off, drinking in the reverent words and letting them weave their way through his hazy thoughts. Each quiet moan or sigh or whine spurs him on further, and it isn’t long until he’s built up a steady rhythm.
Wonwoo says Mingyu’s name like it belongs to him, like no one else is allowed to say it. “Mingyu- ah, Mingyu,” he groans when Mingyu dips his tongue into his slit. “Good, you’re so good- ngh, fuck-!”
Mingyu grins around Wonwoo’s cock at the sound of the curse, proud of himself for chipping away at his partner’s self-control. As if in response, Wonwoo bucks into his mouth slightly. Mingyu moans lowly, his own cock straining in his trousers by this point, but he ignores it in favour of licking a wide stripe up the underside of Wonwoo’s cock. He closes his lips around the head, watching his teeth, and swallows him down all over again.
A slender hand cups his cheek, a thumb wipes away the saliva spilling out from the corner of his mouth. Mingyu knows he’s a mess right now, but he doesn’t care. Likes it, even. Only Wonwoo could ever put him in this state, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Everyone has their Achilles heel, even agents working for an elite intelligence agency that has enough neatly filed information to tear the upper echelons of society to shreds. Mingyu’s just happens to come in the form of Jeon Wonwoo.
And it’s because he knows that Wonwoo is equally weak for him that he’s allowed to do this, to get on his knees in the middle of a mission and convey through his actions, thank you. Thank you for always looking out for me. Thank you for loving me so much that you want me to be safe above all. You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?
And when Wonwoo hisses out a hushed warning that he’s close before tangling his hands in Mingyu’s hair and spilling down his throat, it sounds like, I know, I know. I’d do anything for you, too.
Mingyu stays obediently still after he swallows down Wonwoo’s release, suckling gently to coax out every last drop. He only pulls off when Wonwoo’s soft panting begins to grow ever so slightly strained. He wonders if it would be pushing his luck too much to smile up at Wonwoo and say, “Thank you for the meal.”
He doesn’t get a chance to decide, for Wonwoo drops to the floor almost right away and cradles Mingyu’s face in his hands, pulling him into a messy kiss. “I want you to stand up and get back in that chair,” he murmurs against Mingyu’s mouth, still breathing hard. “Think you can do that for me?”
“Yes, sir,” Mingyu quips back easily. Logically, he knows that the chair is right behind him, but it’s still a task and a half to trust his own spatial awareness and sit down. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s fallen onto his ass in front of Wonwoo. Still, it doesn’t make the possibility any less embarrassing.
As soon as he’s settled, there are palms roaming up and down his thighs, fingertips skimming dangerously close to his arousal. Mingyu brings his knees towards each other just to feel the shape of Wonwoo’s body situated between his legs, smiling as he does so. Those clever hands rest flat against his abdomen for a moment before sliding lower and lower, down to his belt, and-
Muffled, confused mumbling begins to filter through the air.
“Hmm. I guess the sedatives wore off,” Wonwoo remarks mildly, his hands stilling on Mingyu’s body.
Mingyu hooks a thumb underneath his blindfold and rips it off. He winces as his eyes struggle to adjust to the light in the room. As he gazes down at Wonwoo, he bites back the urge to scream in frustration.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Well, in hindsight, we probably shouldn’t have done this here.”
The locked doorknob rattles and the murmuring escalates into cursing.
“Time to go,” Wonwoo declares, rising to his feet and holding out a hand to Mingyu. “But don’t you worry. I’m far from finished with you.”
As Mingyu takes his hand, captivated by the playful glint flashing through Wonwoo’s fox eyes, he wonders how it’s possible that every moment with Wonwoo still feels like having his heart set alight even after so many years spent together.
It’s only once they’re safely back in their own hotel room, four streets away from tonight’s mission, that Wonwoo retrieves something from his pocket and presses it into Mingyu’s palm. Mingyu uncurls his hand to find a single silver cufflink inlaid with a tiny square diamond.
“You got it back,” Mingyu breathes in delight, beaming at Wonwoo.
Wonwoo sniffs, “Of course I did. Those were expensive. If I wasn’t going to kill that bastard for trying to use you as a bargaining chip against me, I would’ve killed him for stealing your- mmph!”
Laughing brightly, Mingyu can only scoop Wonwoo up into his arms and kiss him over and over until he stops protesting and gives in, his mouth curving into a smile against Mingyu’s own.
They both know that they cannot promise each other a life of safety and coming home every day in one piece. But in this moment, this handful of minutes held in their palms like water, this is enough. This is all they need.